Gordo Gets Lucky
by christylee
Summary: July 7, 2007.  777.  It's supposed to be the luckiest day of the century, but will David Gordon be a believer after his experiences on this evening?  Oneshot, complete, just for fun.  Hope you enjoy it!


_So yesterday I'm sitting at work thinking about how 7/7/07 is supposed to be so lucky, and I wondered how I might turn this superstition into a fanfiction. The obvious title would be "Gordo Gets Lucky" and the rest of the story just naturally proceeds from there. This was written completely on one day, today, 7/7/07, by myself, but if you find any lines you think are especially funny, they were suggested by Dr. Strange. Thanks, sweetie! _

_I hope you all enjoy this!_

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David Gordo walked through the wide double doors of the Outback Steakhouse, where the chiming of bar glasses mixed with the low hum of conversation, and the delightful aroma of steak and Bloomin' Onion embraced him like an old friend. He was, in fact, meeting two old friends here for dinner, and craned his neck, searching for the hostess to lead him to his table.

He did not find the hostess, but instead noticed a rather beautiful woman walking out of the bar area, coming his way. And how could he not notice? She had gorgeous, long amber hair, eyes like a cat, and legs that went on for miles until they reached the hem of her very short, very pink slinky dress. Mesmerized for a moment, Gordo found himself wondering why vibrant redheads always insisted on wearing pink. The color combination should not look good together, yet somehow it always did. At least to him.

This woman looked good, and Gordo realized he was staring, so he tried to stop, but before he could turn his eyes away, they seemed to deceive him. He seemed to see the redhead wink, and beacon him with her finger. He turned around quickly, to see who she was motioning to. Surely not him! But in another moment she was upon him, gently grasping his arm and cooing, "Ooh! You look like a college man!"

Startled, and overcome by the scent of her perfume, Gordo could only get out, "I---I---"

"We need someone smart to settle an argument for us," the redhead said, pushing up the spaghetti strap of her dress, which had suddenly slipped off her smooth shoulder. "Do you mind if I borrow your brain for a moment? Please?"

"Well, I…you know…well, sure!" Gordo decided, unable to resist her imploring eyes. He was, after all, he had to admit, rather smart, and always ready to help in any way he could.

"Great!" the redhead smiled, taking his hand and leading him into the bar.

Gordo had just finished his first year of college, and was not yet of legal drinking age, and he was a good boy, so he didn't know much about bars, but he liked this one. The atmosphere was lively and festive, and full of incredibly attractive women. The one holding his hand led him over to two others, her friends, whom she immediately introduced.

"Hey, girls!" she sang, "Look what I found! A college man! He'll put an end to our silly bickering, I'm sure. This is Amanda…"

Gordo waved to the voluptuous brunette in the little black dress.

"And this is Jill…"

He smiled at the blonde in hip-hugging skintight jeans and a silver halter top that barely covered her back.

"Oh, and I'm Kelli, by the way!" she finished up, squeezing his hand.

Gordo looked back and forth, left and right, grinning like an idiot and trying very hard to keep his eyes on their faces. "Uh…hi!" he finally remembered to say. "I'm David!"

They cooed together. "Oh, David! Nice name. A strong name," Kelli pronounced. "Now, David, since you're going to help us, can I get you a drink?"

"Oh, no thanks," Gordo said immediately. "I'm actually meeting some friends here, they'll be wondering where I am. I can only stay a minute. Now, what can I help you ladies with?"

Kelli sighed. "Well, it's like this, you see. As you know, today is July 7th, 2007, so it's 777, and I'm sure you've heard all the hoopla on TV about what a lucky day this is, people are playing the lottery like crazy, getting married in droves, et cetera, et cetera."

"Yeah, I've heard," Gordo said.

"So anyway," Amanda piped in, "we're not sure if there's anything to it. I mean, is it just superstition? All nonsense?"

"Or could it be that there are, in fact, mystical, supernatural forces at work in the world, determining our destiny?" Jill spoke mysteriously, then drained her drink.

Kelli glowered at her friend, then turned her attention to Gordo, pulling up a barstool for him as she said, "Or maybe…it only works when we believe it. Maybe we make our own destiny?"

Gordo grinned widely, taking his seat. This was going to be fun! Only this morning he had been having this same conversation with Miranda, and during it, he heard himself make some excellent points. He could now repeat these excellent points to a captive audience, who not only considered him the resident genius (as Miranda did not) but also were heavenly to look at. He just had to keep reminding himself to keep his gaze at eye level as he spoke, or surely his argument would lose its conviction.

Gordo rambled on for several minutes, and all the while his three students nodded and raised their finely arched eyebrows and murmured "Mmm-hmmm…" in a way that actually sounded inappropriately seductive to Gordo. But he didn't mind. Conversation ensued, and all three asked him philosophical questions to which he rattled off his confident answers, much to their delight.

With all this attention, Gordo temporarily forgot all about his friends—who were, in fact, Lizzie and Miranda—waiting for him on the other side of the restaurant. Until, during a short lull in the conversation, he happened to mention that he had been having this discussion earlier in the day with his friend Miranda, and she actually shared Amanda's viewpoint—

"Oh. Miranda!" Jill exclaimed. "Is she your girlfriend?'

Gordo laughed. "Oh, no! Not my girlfriend. Ha, ha! Just a friend who happens to be a girl. In fact," he added, checking his watch, "just about now, she and Lizzie are probably wondering where the heck I could—"

"Lizzie?" Kelli questioned. "Then _she_ must be your girlfriend?"

Gordo smiled. "No. Not Lizzie. She's not my girlfriend, either."

"Well, then," Kelli insisted, "who is your girlfriend?"

"At the moment," Gordo sighed, "no one."

The three beautiful women moaned in unison, and Kelli said, "Poor David! No girlfriend!" But even as she said it, there was a twinkle in her eye.

"No, no, not at all," Gordo insisted. "It's nice to be free."

"To do whatever you want?" Kelli grinned, winking at him again. "To meet new people and have new experiences?"

"Well…yeah!" Gordo agreed, innocently.

Once again, Gordo allowed this bevy of beauties to distract him, as they went on and on about how smart he was, what a good "catch" he would be for some deserving girl, how well he was dressed, and how nice he smelled. They came close, sniffing his cologne, trying to guess the scent, and none of them could resist running their hands through he curly dark hair.

Gordo had not had anything to drink, and yet he was beginning to feel somewhat intoxicated by all this attention. These women were all over him, and his body was responding. He knew he had to break away, get out of this incredible situation, but how? Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, and he was enjoying it way too much.

Feeling pseudo-intoxicated as he was, he was uncertain as to how much time was passing, but eventually, he realized that he was losing his battle to keep his eyes on his companions' faces. As he stared at their beautiful bustlines, he could no longer even concentrate on what they were saying. Rising up out of a sort of fog, he suddenly realized that they were arguing about where they should go next. Amanda and Jill wanted to go on to a club, but Kelli did not.

"I'm feeling a little…woozy," Kelli said, passing her hand over her forehead.

"David, you'll come with us to the club, won't you?" Amanda asked.

"No, sorry, I can't," he said, with difficulty, to her chest. "I…uh….have to meet some friends here…"

"Oh no!" Kelli exclaimed, collapsing against him. "Please don't! At least, please don't until you've had a chance to do me one really, really big favor!"

Gordo gulped. "And what is that?"

"I need…I'm going to need…a ride home. I just feel too…too dizzy to drive myself. And these two won't take me, will they? They're so intent on getting to their club!"

"Oh, stop it!" Jill chided. "You always say you're 'woozy' and you're always perfectly fine. You can drive yourself home!"

"No she can't!" Gordo objected. "If she's not feeling well, she shouldn't be driving."

Kelli picked up the spaghetti strap that had fallen off her shoulder and gave Gordo a thankful smile as she reached out and squeezed his arm.

"Oh, thank you so much, David! You're such a gentleman!"

"I…uh…well, I can call you a cab!" Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was thinking about Miranda and Lizzie, waiting for him at a table on the other side of the restaurant.

"Well, you _could_ do that," Kelli said, nuzzling her head against his neck. "Or you could drive me home in my Ferrari, and I'll put you in a cab to get back to the restaurant."

"Ferrari?" Gordo said, choking on the word.

She nodded. "It's a convertible. It's red."

Gordo felt his heart racing. "I saw it in the parking lot, coming in. That's yours?"

"Yes. Will you drive it for me?" she pleaded. "Would you please drive me home? I would be forever grateful."

_Hot damn!_ Gordo thought. _Today, I must be the luckiest bastard in the whole wide world!_ No matter what he might think or say about superstition and the ability of a bunch of sevens to attract good fortune, they were certainly working in his favor tonight!

A few moments later, Gordo was behind the wheel of a red Ferrari convertible, feeling the power as the automobile effortlessly glided out of the parking lot. What a rush! And beside him, in the passenger seat, Kelli, the long-legged slightly tipsy redhead, her spaghetti strap once again grazing her upper arm.

"Where to?" Gordo asked.

"The beach. The Royal Pelican Condominiums. Do you know it?"

Gordo laughed quietly to himself. "I've gone past it." On my bike, the thought. When I was in high school and had that busboy job at Fisherman's Wharf.

"Oh, good," Kelli said, wiggling down into the plushness of her seat. "Then you don't mind if I take a little nap while you get us there."

"Oh, not at all, not at all," Gordo said. "You go ahead and rest. I'll just…drive…" and he pealed down the road in exhilaration.

It had been a long time since Gordo had driven stick-shift, and this car wasn't anything like the old VW Beetle he had taken his driver's license test in, but one did not easily forget the heady sensation of driving stick. He was enjoying this so much! A gorgeous gal on the seat beside him and a hitherto unexperienced amount of horsepower at his command. Did life get any better than this? How could this possibly be happening to someone like him? Was this really him, or was he perhaps only dreaming?

He felt his cell phone buzzing in his pocket, followed immediately by "Brown-Eyed Girl," his special ringtone for Miranda. Oh yeah! Miranda! And Lizzie! He was supposed to be having dinner with them at the Outback!

He reached for his cell phone, but as he did, he happened to glance across at Kelli, soundly sleeping and completely unaware that the strap of her little pink dress had slipped down even further, and the side of her breast was exposed, and Gordo felt almost certain that in the folds of satin he could see the hint of a nipple.

He snapped open his phone and squeaked out, "Hello?"

"Gordo!" Miranda's voice was chiding. "Where in the hell are you? Did you forget we're supposed to be having dinner tonight?"

"I…uh…I…well, you see…" He could not help but glance across at Kelli, and _yes!---_that was clearly a nipple! He gulped, taking a deep breath and hurriedly explained, "I was on my way, I was almost there, honestly, and well…something's come up!"

"Where are you?" Miranda asked. "I can barely hear you! Are you at the beach? It sounds like a lot of wind!"

"I can't explain now," was all Gordo could manage to say as his eyes darted back and forth between the road and the nipple. "Can I call you later? You guys go on without me, okay? I'll be there later."

"How much later?"

"I don't know. I---look, Miranda, I can't talk now! I'll call you later!" And then, without so much as a good-bye, he snapped the phone shut.

The snapping of the phone disturbed Kelli's slumber, and she shifted on the seat, turning away from him, so at last the nipple was no longer in his line of vision. He breathed a sigh of relief. Now, perhaps, they had a chance of arriving at the Royal Pelican without his driving this fine car into a tree.

Some minutes later, Gordo pulled the car into the parking lot of the high-rise beachside condominium, and as he did, Kelli roused. She directed him where to park, and he did so, then turned to her saying, "Well, safe and sound…"

He really had to get out of here and back to his real life!

But Kelli turned to him, touched his arm, and said, "Oh, David! You've been such a doll, really! I hate to ask you to anything else for me, but one more thing, if you don't mind."

He sat back, laughing. Could this really be happening?

"You see," Kelli went on, fluffing her mane of red hair that had been blown about by the wind. "I'm still feeling a little woozy, especially after that nice nap, and on these shoes…" and here she pulled up her leg to show off her strappy stiletto, which she need not have done, actually, because Gordo had made full note of her sexy shoes the moment he first saw her.

She smiled at him apologetically and asked, in the sweetest voice possible, "Would you be so kind as to accompany me to my door?"

"I—"

She reached out and put her finger over his lips. "No, no, no," she said. "I absolutely will not take no for an answer. Come now, David. Be a gentleman and open the car door for me."

Well, how could he refuse? Besides, all the times he had ridden his bicycle past the Royal Pelican after a full evening of collecting dirty dishes, hadn't he wondered and longed to see how the other half lived?

Gordo got out of the car, wishing it a fond farewell, then helped Kelli rise from her seat. She swayed and giggled a little, and he held on to her elbow with one hand, and her dress strap with the other, guarding against any further accidental appearances of her nipple.

It was like going to Disneyland, or a foreign country. The opulence, the hushed glamour of the lobby, the plush carpet in the elevator, the solemn rich silence of the hallway on the twentieth floor. Kelli dug into her little purse and pulled out her keys. "Oh, here we go!" she sang, giggling. "My keys! My apartment! Right here!"

As she put the key in the lock, Gordo backed away, saying, "Well then, here you are. It's been nice meeting you…Kelli…but I think it's best now if I—"

"Oh, don't be silly, David!" she said, throwing open the door and ambling in on her wobbly high heels. "You've gotten this far! You might as well come in, if only for a moment. At least while I call you a cab."

Gordo could not refute this logic, and he was, after all, extremely curious to see how the other half lived. So he entered the apartment, closing the door behind him.

His intention was to have a quick look around, say goodbye and leave. He could see himself standing outside the Royal Pelican, waiting for a yellow cab to take him back to Lizzie and Miranda. He might try to tell them this story…then again, maybe not. They probably wouldn't believe him. Maybe it would be best not to say anything.

His quick look around, though, began with the unavoidably large square painting over the living room couch. He caught his breath and asked, "Is that a Picasso?"

"That?" Kelli asked. "Oh yeah."

"Wow…" he couldn't help muttering.

She turned and looked at him, saying, "If you like that, college boy, you'll probably really enjoy my library. Come see."

Further into the apartment there was a shelf of books, loaded with first editions. Gordo read the titles in awe. Hemmingways, Faulkners, even an F. Scott Fitzgerald. "Have you read all these?" he asked.

"No, silly. Books like that aren't for reading. They're for collecting. I collect lots and lots of things. But do you want to see the pride and joy of my collection?"

Mermerized, Gordo followed her even further into the apartment. Now they were in a bedroom, a massive cherry wood headboard dominating a kingsized bed that was dressed in silky golden fabrics. "This?" Gordo asked, figuring the furniture had probably belonged to King George III.

"No, this," Kelli said, leading him to the dresser, where on a small pedestal, stood a single egg, gilded in silver and gold and dotted with pearls. She looked at the egg, then looked at Gordo, smiling proudly.

"This is a Faberge Egg," she explained. "There are only like…fifty in the whole world. And I've got one! I love it!"

"Very nice," Gordo agreed, impressed.

"And this particular design," she went on, "it's Chinese, and the pearls, they symbolize good luck. This egg is supposed to bring the owner good luck."

"And does it work?" Gordo asked. "Has it brought you good luck?"

"Well…it brought you into my bedroom, hasn't it? So I'd say…yes…very, _very_ good luck."

Gordo looked at her nervously. Yikes! Could this really be happening? Trying to find his way back to reality, he cleared his throat and reminded, "That cab…?"

In answer to his question, she said, "Not quite yet, my love," and then, in a single motion, slipped her silky pink little dress over her head.

Now she stood before him bare-breasted, and wearing nothing but lacy pink panties and those impossibly tall shoes. With the extra height, and Gordo being somewhat shorter, this put his line of sight only slightly above her nipples, and of course he could not help but stare at them, unable to speak for several moments.

When he finally found his voice, he heard himself objecting, "But…but…you were feeling…woozy…"

She sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, David, David. I'm not as drunk as you think I am. But you seemed like such a goody-two-shoes, I needed to think of _some_ way, some excuse, to get you up to my apartment."

"But…but…" he objected, his head spinning. "But _why_?"

"Why? Can you really be so smart, David, and yet also such a dunce? I _want _you, silly!"

"But…but…" he repeated. "But why?"

This time she did not answer. She just sighed in exasperation, and took his hand and wrapped it around her naked back, and kissed him.

And kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him some more. And he kissed back, and then a lot of other stuff happened, a lot of other very good, very exciting stuff that he never imagined could have ever happened to him, with a girl like this. Things like this simply did not happen to David Gordon. There had to be outside forces at work. Those mystical, supernatural forces Kelli's friend Jill had suggested? Or was it in fact all those sevens, working in his favor?

He didn't know, he didn't care. And all he could think, afterwards, as he lay back on the fluffy pillows, under the golden sheets and plush blankets, with the gorgeous Kelli at his side, spent and completely satisfied with his lovemaking, was _Hot damn! Today, I must be the luckiest bastard in the whole wide world!_

He stared at the ceiling and reconsidered what he might tell Lizzie and Miranda to explain why he stood them up for dinner. He knew he could not tell them the truth! They would certainly never believe it! No, best he stick with a story about a flat tire. _That_ they would believe. Poor old Gordo, getting a flat tire on what is supposed to be the luckiest day of the century…

These were his thoughts, but he barely had time to pursue them when, from a distance, he thought he heard a noise. He sat up suddenly in bed, listening. There it was again! He reached out and squeezed Kelli's arm.

"Listen!" he whispered. "What is that?"

It sounded like it was coming from the general vicinity of the front door.

Kelli lifted herself on her elbows, her red tresses falling over her eyes. "Oh that," she answered lazily. "That must be Mike."

Gordo felt his blood suddenly freeze in his veins.

"Mike?" he questioned frantically. "Oh please, please, tell me you have a dog named Mike!"

Kelli giggled. "No, silly. Mike is my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend!" Gordo screamed, jumping up out of the bed and fishing around on the floor for his shorts. "You never told me you had a boyfriend!"

"You didn't ask," Kelli said simply. "And there's nothing to worry about. Mike and I have an agreement. He flirts with other girls and sleeps with them. Why can't I do the same? I mean, with other guys, of course. Not girls."

"I have to get out of here!" Gordo exclaimed, pulling on his pants.

But Kelli did not seem at all concerned. She continued to wax eloquent about her relationship with her boyfriend Mike. "I mean, he may seem a real macho guy when you first meet him, being a Green Beret and all—"

Gordo gulped. "A Green Beret!"

"No! Don't think that! Don't think that at all. I mean, sure he can bend metal with his bare hands, but he does have a very tender and sensitive side, and I'm sure he'll completely understand and appreciate that—"

But a moment later, Mike was standing in the bedroom doorway and he did not look at all understanding or appreciative of the fact that some scrawny college kid was here, half-naked in his girlfriend's bedroom. He was big and brawny, in jeans and a muscle tee, his hair so closely cropped to his head, Gordo could not tell what color it was. Mike had a tattoo on his left shoulder.

"Who the hell are you?" Mike barked at Gordo, flexing his biceps.

"I—uh---I'm no one!" Gordo squeaked. "I was just leaving!"

"Kelli!" Mike growled, shifting his attention. "What the hell are you doing? Cheating on me?"

"Oh, that's right! That's rich!" Kelli said, getting out of bed and slipping into a white silk robe. "When you do it, it's just 'playing around,' it's meaningless sex that I have no right to be concerned about! But when I do it, it's 'cheating'! Well, I've got news for you, buster! I can have meaningless sex just as well as you can!"

"You slut! You whore!" Mike rumbled, coming towards her, swinging his arms.

"Hold on!" Kelli shouted back, right into his face. "Wait just one minute there, buster! I'm only doing what you told me to do! Didn't you say to me that if I didn't like the way you were getting so chummy with Susan, that I ought to just go out and sleep with the first guy I saw?"

"I…uh…well, I might have said that, but I didn't mean it!" Mike sputtered. "Don't tell me you took that seriously!"

"Oh, I took it seriously, all right," Kelli spit back in his face. "I took up your challenge! The first guy I saw…Observe!" she cried, flinging her arms in Gordo's direction. "Here he is!"

Now all of Mike's beady-eyed focus was back on Gordo, who was shrinking back into the wall.

"She seduced me," Gordo said feebly. "She deceived me. It wasn't my fault."

"Oh, that's just like you men, isn't it!" Kelli exclaimed disgustedly. "None of you ever take responsibility for your own actions, do you? A pretty face, a great set of knockers, and you lose all self-control! How…_typical_!"

"I'll deal with you later," Mike murmured to Kelli out of the side of his mouth. "Right now I think I've got me a little ass kicking to—"

"No! No!" Gordo cried. "No ass kicking! Please! I haven't got very much of an ass to kick!"

"Why, you little…" Mike grumbled, slapping his fist into his palm as he approached Gordo. "I oughta tear you limb from limb—"

"No! No, you don't!" Kelli cried suddenly, lunging at the massive Mike. "Don't you dare hurt him! He's such a sweetheart, not a big brute like you!"

Kelli had jumped on Mike's back to prevent him from getting to Gordo, who was cowering in the corner. Mike apparently did not appreciate the impediment, and spun around the room, throwing back his arms in an attempt to dislodge the woman. She refused to let go, and so he spun all the more, groaning and growling like a pro-wrestler until finally, with one mighty swing—

There was a noise like a shattering, a tinkling shattering, a splintering, and the bouncing of marbles upon the floor. Gordo noticed something like a pearl rolling across the hardwood floor into his corner.

"My Egg!" Kelli was screaming hysterically. "Look what you've done to my Egg!"

Mike was now standing stupefied in the middle of the room. "Awww…honey," he said quietly, sadly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Say, maybe we can fix it! Hey! Let's see if we can gather up all the pieces and—"

As Mike bent down to collect the pieces, Kelli shrieked, "You ignoramus! It's in a million pieces! You can't fix it! It's a priceless Faberge Egg!"

"Not any more," Gordo observed philosophically, as he tip-toed past the two of them, bent over the slivers of porcelain strewn all around the foot of the bed.

Gordo kept tip-toeing until he was out of the room, then broke into a trot heading past the rare books and Picasso, and ended up in a full-fledged gallop down twenty flights of stairs, unwilling to take a chance that the broken egg would distract Mike long enough to allow his escape. At last, winded, yet incredibly grateful to the mystical, supernatural powers that be, he reached the street with all his limbs still attached, thinking, _Hot damn! Today I really am the luckiest in bastard in the whole wide world!_


End file.
